


The truth untold

by AvandraTheMarySueSlayer



Category: Baldur's Gate
Genre: Almost forgot that one lol, Art, At least Prism didn't attempt to kidnap her, But I always wondered what went on in Prism's mind to be so obssessed, F/M, Minor Character Death, More like unhealthy obssession, My guess is that Ellesime has a similar effect to nymphs and dryads in weak-willed mortals, Unrequited... love?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 05:58:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15745674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvandraTheMarySueSlayer/pseuds/AvandraTheMarySueSlayer
Summary: The tale of how Prism met Ellesime near Evereska.





	The truth untold

**Author's Note:**

> Well, in the end I managed to get this done. I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

 

Art had been what propelled him since a very young age. “You are so gifted, Prism!”, his parents would exclaim. They used up all of their savings for his apprenticeship with the most acclaimed sculptor of the realms, in Waterdeep.

 

Wasted, every single coin.

 

True, he had become what his parents dreamed of; he gained fame, money, status, and above all else, skill. People would often comment on how alive all of his sculptures felt, how perfect they were. Back then, he had felt proud. He’d send back much of what he earned to his parents, to ensure they would have an easier, happier life. His creative freedom kept growing along with his fame. He used to feel accomplished.

 

He was nothing but a fraud.

 

So one day, when he felt he had enough financial stability, he decided to temporarily abandon his residence in Waterdeep and travel the realms, to know the wonders that awaited, to find inspiration for something new. He hired the best bodyguards, as he wasn't a man of war and did not enjoy violence or fighting. He was a creator; not a destroyer.

 

He was a fool.

 

His travels took him to many different and interesting places. The Sword Coast was full of myths and adventures. He stopped at Baldur's Gate to make a sculpture of Balduran for the Grand Dukes, and then continued his travels south, to the northernmost part of Amn. He visited Nashkel and saw its carnival, but found nothing that inspired him in there, so he decided to continue, promising to go back as soon as he found the perfect image to sculpt for the place. And so, he continued to wander east, having heard tales of the elven lands, anxious to see them for himself.

 

He shouldn't have listened.

 

After a journey full of adventures fit for bardsong, he and his protectors made it to the forest of Tethyr, which was said to be home to a beautiful elven city. He was set on visiting it and then continue on to Evereska. The forest was unlike anything he had seen before; it was carefully guarded by druids, and it was easy to tell that its people treated it with the utmost respect and care. But… no, something was missing. He had to keep going.

 

He should have stopped right there.

 

He had insisted on going for a walk in the beautiful forest that held the city before heading to the Queen’s court. The place looked like an enormous garden; grass and moss and flowers he had never seen before were like a soft rug to rub his feet on. He felt so tempted that he took off his boots and walked barefoot under the millenary trees that seemed to be watching him. The flowers beneath him looked like tiny crystal sculptures that reflected the greenish light that reached the earth from the trees above in hues that were completely new and foreign to him.

 

And then, the fool looked up and saw  _ her. _

 

She walked with an elegance he had seen in no elf before, almost as if she floated, her feet barely caressing the grass beneath them. She wore an open cloak that revealed most of her body. Were it not for her thick, blond mane, similar to a lion’s, he would have thought he was before Sune herself. She smiled as she walked; it was a natural smile, as if no other expression than that was made for her perfect features. Because she was perfect, from her crown of leaves to those toes that seemed to leave the grass a little greener and fresher when they stepped on it. Being the fool he was, he just gawked at her, unable to utter a single word. He could only watch as she passed by, mouth agape, wondering if he had become lost and found himself in a higher plane of existence. Her eyes darted in his direction for less than a second, and it was his undoing.

 

That was a green he would never, ever, forget.

 

And as she came, the Queen left, taking the light of his world with her.

 

He could not meet her again after that. How could he present himself to her in her court, a mere, ugly, imperfect mortal like him? She was meant for imperishable perfection, not for him. He could not face her. So he told his bodyguards to excuse him, to tell her that he had fallen sick and would not be able to greet her, but that he would leave a little work for her as compensation. Then, he set out to make it. He discarded more pieces than ever before, and he used up almost all of his materials, but it was worth it in the end. He had crafted a crystal flower like the ones that naturally bloomed in Suldanessellar. It even reflected the light in the same strange and wonderful hues the real blossoms did. Once it was ready, he asked one of his bodyguards to deliver it to the Queen and hastily left the elven city, the memory of its ruler haunting his thoughts and dreams to the point of obsession. He needed to craft her; to immortalize her to make sure he wouldn't forget the manifestation of perfection that she was. She would be his masterpiece, and so he announced it at Nashkel upon his arrival.

 

He dismissed his bodyguards and got to work. He didn't stop for anything, and spent entire months just to get the details right, because it  _ needed  _ to be perfect. Eventually, he stopped sleeping; he knew he would see her in his dreams. He had to put a stop to his obsession before it ended him. So he started to drink oil of speed in order to be more productive… and because he had debts to pay. His bodyguards, his materials… and he wouldn't get the money for it until the sculpture was complete. But there was a problem. Even though every other feature was an exact copy of the elven queen, he couldn't get the eyes right. They were missing… something. He couldn't get the exact color, that green that was so unique.

 

And so, he became a thief. He couldn't help it. He visited the city for supplies and saw them in a store. Two emeralds, with the perfect cut and size to fit the elf's empty irises. Since he had no money to buy them, he hid them in his purse and ran away. He knew someone would eventually come for him, so he doubled his oil of speed servings, feeling weaker and weaker with each passing day, the memory of his brief encounter with the Queen becoming his only strength to go on. Right before a mercenary appeared to claim the jewels, he was visited by a most peculiar woman. She was a human mage. Beautiful and somewhat haunting too, but in a completely different way than the one he loved. What struck him the most were her eyes, a similar, though clearer shade of green than the Queen’s. She protected him from the mercenary and allowed him to finish his work, claiming that art should be encouraged; not punished because of mere technicalities like stealing the materials. He told her she could keep the emeralds for herself after he was done; he just needed to see his work complete before the remainder of his strength left him.

 

And she was perfect. His masterpiece, his folly, his damnation. A manifestation of perfection, just like she was. With his last breath, he called out her name.

 

“Ellesime!”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, feedback is very much encouraged, it makes my day to see you people interacting with me and giving me your opinions. I don't have much energy left right now, but I'll try to keep on working on Strangeness and Charm tomorrow.


End file.
